Wristy Business
by soiknowwhentoduck
Summary: Steve makes up for the inconvenience he's caused Danny


Danny huffed angrily to himself as he placed the mug and spoon onto the counter top in the break room. He picked up the coffee container and wrestled one-handed with the lid for a minute, before it finally popped off the tub and coffee grounds went everywhere.

He cursed loudly and dumped some into the coffee machine and hit the button, before replacing the lid and sweeping the mess to one side with a wet cloth.

When the mug was filled with the dark liquid he had been craving, he sighed happily and breathed it in for a moment while in its purest form. He liked his coffee with milk, but the smell of rich, black coffee was heaven in itself.

He tugged the fridge door open with his left hand and pulled out the milk. With another obstacle to overcome, he muttered and struggled to hold the carton against his body with his right arm while he attempted to pry the lid open. Milk spat up his shirt and tie when he finally got into it, and he put it down on the counter and sighed heavily, trying to keep his cool.

This was fucking ridiculous. He was a grown man; he should be able to adapt, to cope with everyday tasks, but no. Apparently not without wrecking the place.

He poured the milk, managed to put the lid back on and the container back in the fridge without further incident, and instead of dealing with the pot of sugar and a spoon – because god knew what sort of a mess he'd make with that – he took three packets out of the cupboard and ripped them open with his teeth one by one.

The empty packets went into the trashcan, and he swung back around to fetch his drink, but his useless right hand automatically went out to grab the mug and it skittered a foot across the counter, sloshing liquid over the side.

"Oh for fucks sake!" Danny hissed, snatching some paper towels up from the side. Why was this his life right now?

He heard a snicker behind him, and turned to see Steve across the room, leaning against the doorjamb and watching him with an amused sparkle in his eyes.

"How long have you been standing there watching me struggle?" The blonde growled as he cleaned up the small puddle.

"Since the battle with the coffee container," Steve laughed, advancing across the room, "Here, let me-"

"I can handle this, thank you Steven," Danny interrupted, trashing the coffee-stained paper towels and picking up his drink, "I'm not a damn invalid."

"I think you'll find you are," the SEAL grinned and tapped the cast on his partner's right wrist with a knuckle.

Danny glared at him. "Well that's as may be, but I can handle myself. Anyway, it's _your_ fault I'm in this mess in the first place, so I don't need you causing any more bodily harm, grievous or otherwise, thanks."

Steve watched his friend stomp out of the room and sighed to himself. Yeah, it was his fault Danny had a broken bone in his wrist, and he already felt guilty enough about it, but with the Jersey man still pissy with him after two days he didn't really know what else he could do.

He'd tried to help, and each offer of assistance was met with a firm, gruff – and often angry – 'fuck off'. Danny was proud and didn't want to be a burden, and he was still annoyed with Steve for the accident; so his concern had taken a back seat to amusement, and he had taken to following the detective around and just waiting for him to eventually break and accept the aid he was attempting to provide.

It wasn't until later that day that Steve finally got the chance to prove to Danny he was there for him. As he walked past Danny's office, he could hear the man grumbling to himself. He leaned in through the door to find the cop shuffling paper around on his desk and using his computer mouse with his left hand, but he kept clicking erratically and cursing at the screen, obviously having issues.

"You okay there, buddy?" Steve tried, ready to duck if any large items of stationery came flying his way in response.

Danny just leaned back in his chair, looking stressed and defeated.

"You pushed me out of a fucking helicopter, and now I can't even write up the damned report about how you hurled me from an airborne vehicle, which by the way we shouldn't have even been using in the first place because, oh _look_!" He gestured dramatically to the cast with his working hand. "My wrist is in _pieces_!"

"Don't be such a baby, Danno. It was one break..." Steve rolled his eyes to cover the stab of guilt he felt.

"Don't be such a-? I'm so sorry if my injury doesn't qualify me for bitching rights, Steven. I'll try to go for something a little more life-threatening next time, shall I?" The blonde jabbed at his keyboard a few more times, and then gave up and unsuccessfully tried to cross him arms over his chest. The cast was too bulky, and it only served to annoy him more.

Steve put his hands on Danny's desk and leaned forward. "If I hadn't pushed you out of the helo, it _would_ have been life-threatening... the damn thing was on fire!"

"And whose fault was _that_?" Danny cocked his head to the side, still glowering. Meanwhile he was imagining all the ways he might teach his boss a lesson while the man was in that position, bent over his desk like that. His fingers twitched at the ideas in his head and he felt a sharp pain shoot down his right arm, making him wince.

The Commander opened his mouth to answer, and realised he couldn't say anything that wasn't incriminating. "Look..." he stammered, his voice quickly growing firmer, "Look the point _is_ , you're not dead. Your wrist will heal. And in the meantime, _I_ will help you write up the report, how's that?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "You? Do paperwork? Did you hit your head when you took a dive as well?" The barest hint of a raise at the corner of the man's lips lightened Steve's heart.

He was mad, but he wasn't above forgiving him. Steve was just going to have to work for it, and he didn't really mind that.

He ignored the snipe and grabbed the other chair from the corner of his friend's office so he could sit next to him.

"Look, first thing's first, you can swap the buttons on your mouse so they're mirrored. See?" He tugged the laptop and mouse over and changed the settings, demonstrating it to his colleague. "That'll make it easier to use with your left hand. But I'm gonna swap it back and you can dictate to me right now, and we'll get this done in no time..."

He pulled up the electronic report and sat patiently waiting for Danny to tell him what to write.

The Jersey man gave his partner a dirty look, but he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to get Steve to do paperwork for him. He pulled open his top drawer and took out his pain meds, downing the dosage with some water.

"Okay, fine... but you're still a dick." he huffed.

Steve laughed. "Fair enough."

They had the report filed within the hour, with Steve only having to change a few of the dictated words here and there, like 'pea-brained neanderthal idiot' to 'Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett' for one. He then offered to drive his partner home, because the meds were beginning to kick in and he was getting drowsy.

"I can have a nap here, Steve, just wake me up in an hour or two," Danny waved at the couch in the corner and yawned.

"Nah, come on Danno," the brunette insisted, "We've got no cases, and you need a proper rest. I'll take you home and cook you some food, and if you're good and eat all your greens, I might even let you have dessert," he teased.

Tired and in pain, the detective eventually conceded, albeit grumpily. "Fine, whatever... but I get peppermint patties for after dinner..."

Danny dozed in the car, which gave Steve the opportunity to stop off and get some groceries while he slept. He put two packs of Danny's favourite frozen treat in his trolley, plus some bacon for the morning, and he even visited the bakery for some malasadas. He could be accused of over-compensating right now, but if it meant Danny might be happier with him, he was going to do what he could to get his friend back on side. The bottle of 30 year old scotch wouldn't do any harm either.

The cop was still fast asleep in the passenger seat when he returned, not even noticing his boss's absence, and Steve continued their journey home.

Danny grumbled and blinked awake when his car door opened and Steve leaned in to unbuckle him.

"Come on buddy, let's get some food in you."

The blonde took a second to clear his fuzzy brain, thinking he might be seeing things, but no… this was _not_ his apartment building. Why had he expected anything else from his control freak buddy?

"Steve, when you said you were gonna take me home, I thought you'd at least have the sense to realise I'd wanna go to _my_ home, not _yours_ …" He struggled out of the Camaro and brushed back his hair. "My stuff is at my place…"

The SEAL smiled at him, grabbing shopping bags from the trunk. "I've got stuff you can borrow, Danny… plus my spare bed is much more comfortable than your pull-out, and if I'm gonna be looking after you I want my own kitchen to hand and not that crappy-"

"Are you done insulting my lifestyle yet, babe? I just wanna know if I have time for another nap before you finish…" He reached for a grocery bag with his left hand, unable to put up much of an argument with the pain meds in his system, and Steve passed him the lightest one so he could unlock the front door easily.

Once they were inside he went to work, treating it like a military operation. He settled Danny in on the couch, brought his medication in from the car and laid it out on the side in the kitchen, programming the times into his phone so he could ensure his partner stuck to the regime. He delivered him coffee and water, gave him the remote for the television, and headed for the kitchen to start on dinner.

"I still have both of my legs, y'know," Danny mumbled after him, but he was grinning. While he didn't want to be treated like some wilting flower, he was also trying hard not to let on – and failing – that he was enjoying the attention from the taller man.

"I know, Danno," Steve chuckled as he left the room.

The Jersey man relaxed back into the cushions and flicked through the channels aimlessly until he came across some Chips re-runs. Steve was right, however much he hated to admit it; the man's couch was a lot more comfortable, the bed would be too, and if it meant he would be waited on hand and foot like this? He could deal with it for a while.

His anger towards Steve had begun to diminish the moment he'd left the hospital, really. Yeah, he'd been annoyed that he'd been put in the position where they were in a damn helicopter in the first place – and lord knows he'd recommended other courses of action, all disregarded by the Navy man who was in full SEAL mode at the time – but Steve had thought fast in the heat of the moment, diving from the helo with no warning and taking Danny with him for the twelve foot drop to the ground. He'd landed awkwardly, with Steve on top of him, and the snap in his wrist had been sickening, but it wasn't one hundred per cent his partner's fault… however, that didn't mean he wasn't still a little pissed at him.

If he was honest though, his ire had been more to do with the fact that Steve had also been in danger. Danny hated being put in the line of fire, even more so when they both were, because one of these days his friend's reckless familiarity with danger was going to get him hurt, and badly. With the cop all but incapacitated in the field, distracted by a broken wrist, Steve had then had to take on three guys with guns single-handed… as it were. Danny had eventually managed to take one of them out, arm cradled to his chest, but the tears in his eyes and pain screaming through his body from the bruised ribs and busted arm had made it virtually impossible to help his partner. He'd felt useless, and that was why he'd been mad.

His irritation lessened further, however, when he was presented with spaghetti bolognese at the dining table, complete with garlic bread on the side. Even more annoyance ebbed away when he received his promised minty treat for dessert. He was almost to the point of 'what broken wrist?' when he was given a tumbler of whiskey after they'd installed themselves back on the couch.

"You can only have one," Steve warned, "Your next round of drugs is due in two hours."

"Yes, mother," Danny grinned up at him and stuck his tongue out, and the brunette felt his stomach do a little flip.

His friend's cheeky smile had the strangest effect on him sometimes, and it was something he'd never willingly admit to, but it was like god damn sunshine on a rainy day; especially when it was as well-earned as tonight. Danny had practically spent every waking second murdering him with his glare that morning, and now he was as calm and as chilled out as the loud-mouthed mainlander seemingly could ever be; that made Steve more than a little proud.

There was a football game on the television, but it largely went unnoticed as they sat next to one another with their bare feet up on the coffee table, bantering back and forth in the easy way they always did. Danny had tugged his tie down to half mast and popped the top two buttons of his now untucked work shirt. He looked messy and unkempt, but he didn't care because he was comfy and warm, and the scotch was doing wonders for his mood.

"Did you ever notice how _everything_ is made for right-handed people?" Danny swept his damaged hand out in a broad movement, encompassing the world with one gesture. "Like kitchen scissors and computer mice and god damn can openers..."

Steve rolled his eyes and grinned. "You gonna tell me how hard done by you are now, Danno?"

"Oh, not just _me_. All the left-handed people out there! It's not right! I'm tired of it already and I've only been a lefty for two days... When this is all over, I'm gonna campaign for left-handed rights!"

He frowned at his own words, confusion creasing his brow, and both men burst into laughter.

"Do you even realise how confusing that rant was?" the brunette asked, giving his partner an amused look.

"Yeah, it kinda got away from me there," he shook his head, "It's these drugs I'm on..."

"I'm sorry, Danny."

The apology came out of nowhere, and jarred the cop a little.

"Huh?"

The brunette gazed into his drink for a long minute, pressing his lips together in a thin line before continuing.

"About your wrist... I still think taking the helo was the only way to get the job done, but I'm sorry that it resulted in you getting hurt..."

Danny took a moment to absorb the apology, nodding slowly.

"That's... that's fine, Steve. I agree, actually. I, honest to god, _hate_ flying with you, and at the time I wanted nothing more than to find an alternative," he locked eyes with his partner, "But looking back on it, regardless of injury, it was the only way we would have made it on time so... Yeah, it's fine."

Steve gave him a grateful smile. "And I'm sorry I wasn't more helpful before now, I guess..." he dropped his gaze, "Maybe I felt guilty and was deflecting or something..."

Danny was stunned. It was a rare thing to get more than three words strung together out of his best friend, let alone two genuine apologies in one night, and he wasn't sure what to do with all this. Steve was letting himself actually talk about emotions, be vulnerable, and whereas the Jersey man would normally leap on the opportunity to rip into the guy, he just couldn't. Not when the Navy man had the look of a chastised five year old on his face.

Instead, Danny's first reaction was to protect him and make him feel better. He gave him a soft smile and went straight for the humour option, wanting to lighten that burden from his partner's shoulders.

"I think the worst thing is that I can't even open a jar of goddamn jelly right now," he joked, waving his cast-bound wrist to validate his point further.

Steve looked up at him, relief painting his features when he realised what Danny was doing. He really appreciated that the blonde was passing up the opportunity to lay into him, and he took a long sip of his whiskey again while the detective continued his well-meaning rant.

"I mean, I've got no grip! I can't write anything down, and I certainly can't use my _left_ hand for that 'cause my handwriting looks like a drunk toddler's…"

Steve cracked up at that description and sloshed more scotch into his glass. Danny was glad as he drank from his glass that his friend hadn't noticed that the blonde had refilled his own, he'd been too busy fetching him another patty at the time.

"Yeah, I can see how that would be irritating," he nodded, leaning back into the cushions again, "And I bet texting is even harder now."

"Dear god, yes. As if I didn't have goofy thumbs before... and I have to tape a plastic bag around the cast when I shower. Oh, and it takes me about _three years_ to get dressed in the morning and another decade to get undressed at night!" Danny shrugged, his good mood, the alcohol and the pain killers combining to loosen his tongue and relax his inhibitions. "And speaking of nights, the last couple have been... less _interesting_..." He gestured with his immobilised hand towards his crotch and raised an eyebrow.

Why the hell was he suddenly making references to jerking off in front of Steve? Had they ever even discussed sexual things before now? Surely they had, they'd known one another for about eighteen months now, and had both had girlfriends of a sort in that time... but here he was talking – in no real uncertain terms – about being unable to pleasure himself due to a broken wrist.

He felt his cheeks begin to blush and he frowned slightly at himself, realising quite how intimate his sharing had become. Damn that whiskey.

But bless Steve, because he didn't appear at all fazed. Maybe it was from years of being in close quarters with other men in the Navy, but he seemed not in the slightest bit bothered about the direction this conversation was now taking.

A lazy, relaxed smile spread across his lips, mischievous hazel eyes glinting with humour.

"So when you said earlier that you could handle yourself…?" Steve snorted, and Danny couldn't stop the giggle that escaped his chest.

"Um yeah, I guess not," he admitted, feeling the last bit of tension leaving his body.

Steve observed his partner closely, seeing him release his muscles and loving the easy smile that graced his lips. He could almost feel the alcohol travelling through his own blood stream, infusing with him at a cellular level, and when the next sentence came out of his mouth he barely felt any embarrassment over it.

"Is this another job you need me to do? I mean, I wrote your report, I've cooked you dinner and I'm gonna make your bed..."

It was a joke. Sort of. Half a joke and half hopeless truth, not that Danny needed to know that.

He was attracted to the Jersey man, there was no denying that, and there were some feelings there which he had denied, squashed down and ignored in the hopes they would go away.

Hell, it was only recently that Danny had helped to prove his innocence regarding the Governor's murder when Steve had been thrown in jail. The guy had dropped his opportunity to follow his pregnant ex wife – with whom he'd managed to rekindle a romance – and his daughter back to his hometown, so that he could stay and help his best friend out of trouble.

Okay, so Rachel's baby had turned out not to be his, but he hadn't known that. He must, however, have known that choosing to remain in Hawaii after everything they'd been through would damage his renewed relationship with her... and it had broken them up again. That and the revelation about the baby.

And god, Danny had spent the first year of their friendship ranting about how much he hated Hawaii and loved Jersey, and he had continued to bitch about the islands that were now his permanent home since that point. But he'd stayed. For Steve.

So maybe the SEAL was still working through some hero worship right now, alongside the guilt of maybe ruining the good thing Danny had going. Maybe the whole thing had brought up long-repressed emotions he'd tried to forget about, because he knew that falling for your straight friend and colleague could only end one way.

But now he was sitting next to Danny, close enough to feel the heat from his body along the side of his arm and leg from not even an inch away, and he'd effectively just offered to give him a hand job.

The blonde let out a clipped laugh that sounded a little bit nervous.

"Uh no, I think I'll pass on that, babe... that's a little uh, above and beyond the call of duty," Danny smirked, trying to hide the spark of arousal and the new wave of unease he was feeling.

He was still letting it all come off as a jest, because he knew that was all it was, and Steve couldn't possibly know that the idea of his hand on the detective's body was enough to twist his insides and send blood rushing southward.

"Yeah, probably for the best," Steve snickered and stretched out his back, throwing cocky confidence into his comment, "Once you'd got a taste of a hand job from me, you'd _never_ want to go back to jerking yourself off..."

His jibe was met with silence, and the smile slid off his face. Shit, he'd gone too far.

His face heated up, and he forced himself to look at his companion. He was going to have to insist it was a joke, possibly even combat a negative reaction to his now obviously blatant advances and pretend they had meant nothing, but even as he opened his mouth to speak the words died on his tongue because Danny was gazing at him, lips parted and eyes heavy-lidded and full of heat and curiosity.

The cop cleared his throat and licked his lips, still ploughing forward under the thin veil of drunken banter, but with hope and adrenaline making his heart beat loudly in his ears.

"I doubt it."

He let the challenge hang there between them. Steve could take it or leave it right now, and they could possibly still walk away from this and put it all down to bad humour...

And then suddenly his boss was turning towards him, hands going to his belt with more speed than was strictly necessary, and Danny wasn't even attempting to try and stop him as his heart tried to exit his chest through his rib cage.

Steve wasn't even sure right now if he was actually trying to prove his friend wrong out of pride, or if he was simply letting his fantasy become reality, but dear god he was unzipping Danny's pants and silently revelling in the fact that his best friend was making no move to halt his actions.

He stared into those ice blue eyes as he gripped the blonde's waistband with both hands, daring him to lose the unspoken wager between them, to be the first to break and end this.

Danny felt himself unable to breathe under the weight of the intense determination emanating from the brunette, and he licked his lips and lifted his pelvis off the couch so that Steve could pull his slacks and boxers down in one move, not once losing eye contact. He was already rock hard and he couldn't find it within him to be self-conscious about that fact.

Fuck, was this actually happening? Was his partner actually going to jerk him off over some stupid challenge, some drunken words?

He looked deep into those hazel eyes and searched for Steve's motives, and then he saw it. Jesus, this wasn't about pride. This was lust. No, something _more_.

His own eyes widened a little, knowing he would hate himself if he let the two of them do something they might regret. If feelings were involved, this could ruin everything.

"Steve, you don't have t-"

"Shut up, Danny," Steve whispered, cutting off his weak protest, "Just... Just shut up..."

Then his mouth was on Danny's mouth and his hand was on Danny's cock, and the Jersey man's mind blanked.

Steve's tongue pressed at the line of his lips and he opened to him without hesitation, gasping around the Navy man's invasion as his fingers momentarily tightened on his erection.

The brunette's hand began to move on him, caressing his heated length and twisting slightly towards the tip as he massaged Danny's cock.

The Jersey man couldn't hold back the groan that vibrated through his chest. It felt so good, so right, having Steve touch him that way. Nerve endings all over his body sparked and fired, and his left hand found its way to his friend's face to stroke a thumb over his cheekbone and cup his jaw.

Steve felt a need to increase their contact, and he leaned into Danny and swapped the hand he was using on his dick so that he could use his dominant right hand to tackle the rest of the other man's buttons, tugging his shirt open and shoving his tie aside to expose his solid chest and stomach. He got his knee up on the cushions under him so he could loom over the cop while he endeavoured to explore every inch of his mouth with his tongue, and put his right hand back on Danny's cock so he could run his left through that beautifully soft, dark-blonde body hair.

Every squeeze and slide of his grip pulled delicious, desperate sounds from his partner, and he hungrily swallowed each one. The sensation of the hot, silky flesh against his palm, the unexpected size of Danny's manhood considering his overall height, and the knowledge that eighteen months of wondering and wishing and pining had finally come to an end, all mixed together in a heady cocktail that stole Steve's breath from him.

He pulled back, gasping in oxygen, and watched as Danny arched his back and let his head fall to the couch.

"Fuck... Steve..."

The words came out breathy and torn up, and holy shit he needed to hear that again. The sound of his name coming from those lips would haunt his dreams forever, he just knew it, because that was just the most heavenly thing he'd ever heard.

He looked down to marvel at having his best friend in the palm of his hand, and the sight that met his eyes was glorious. Danny was big, pulsing and twitching, leaking precum while Steve massaged him into submission and made him writhe. His hand had dropped away from the brunette's face, and was now curling into the cushions next to him.

His dick looked so perfect, so mouth-watering, and Steve knew in that moment he couldn't pass up the opportunity to make this more than just a hand job.

Danny could think of nothing else but the feeling of Steve's hand wrapped around him, his calloused fingers sending electricity darting up his spine and ripping groans of pleasure from deep inside him, so he didn't notice his friend repositioning himself until his hand disappeared from his erection and the pants which had ended up around his lower legs were being yanked off him completely.

Steve dropped to his knees in between Danny's thighs, pushing them further apart, and before his sex-hazed mind could even think to say anything those gorgeous lips were encircling the head of his cock.

"Steve!"

The Jersey man shouted his partner's name, left hand flying out to grasp at the SEAL's hair as he was taken into slick, velvet heat, and the pain from his right hand when he reactively flexed the muscles there was nothing in comparison to the unbelievably erotic pleasure he was experiencing.

He gasped and moaned, trying not to buck up into Steve's mouth as his friend expertly applied pressure and suction, running his tongue against the underside of Danny's cock and drawing him back into his throat. Strong fingers dug into his hips, pressing in bruises that would remain for days.

Steve lathered his partner with attention, each groan and grunt going straight to his own erection and making him almost too hard to bear. Danny's reactions pushed him onward, drove him to give more and take everything.

The flavours assaulting his tongue were delicious, and he savoured every nuance of salt and sweetness.

"Jesus Christ! Fuck, I'm gonna come Steve... Fuck, just... god!" The blonde's sentence dissolved into meaningless half-formed words and gasps as he was pulled over the edge.

He tried to push Steve back, the tiniest part of his brain that still worked telling him the Navy man might not want to have him come in his mouth, but Steve brushed his hand away and sucked purposefully as he drew back.

The move finished Danny, and his world went white as his orgasm hit like a nuclear bomb going off.

He jerked upward, crying out, but he was pushed back down into the cushions by forceful hands. Steve drank him down, cleaned him off with attentive tongue and lips, mouthing up his twitching shaft until he felt too sensitive and he had to nudge him away. He absently ran his fingers through his friend's hair while he floated on a sea of endorphins, gently drifting back to reality in a slow, unhurried fashion.

When he regained the ability to breathe, and therefore speak, he licked his lips and swallowed to wet his parched mouth.

"Fuck..." he huffed out, peeling his eyelids open and bring his heavy head up to make eye contact with his boss, "I mean... Fuck..."

Steve was panting from his own exertion, and he chuckled despite the raw feeling in his throat.

"I told you I'd help you out," he grinned, and yelped with surprise as Danny dove forward and he was pulled into a kiss that was both intensely passionate and lusciously lethargic at the same time.

He kissed his partner back, returning the affection with emotion that came from deep within his bones.

He felt the detective's left hand reach down to grasp at his back, insistently pulling until he raised himself up into a standing position. He had to lean over Danny and put both hands on the backrest so that he could continue the kiss, and the blonde's good hand was soon fighting with his zipper.

He pulled back and straightened, legs a little unsteady as the kiss had made him light-headed for more than just oxygen-related reasons.

"Danny, you don't have to," he said softly, "Don't do it just because-"

"Steve?" Sharp eyes met his.

"Yeah, Danno?"

"Will you shut the hell up and help me get your pants off already?" That sunshine smile brought a matching grin to Steve's face, and he dropped his shoulders and nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, okay," he laughed, joy overwhelming him because he could see the emotion on his best friend's face, and the warmth in his eyes, and the idea that this man could want this as much as him was just too perfect.

Danny moved his hand so Steve could strip his cargo pants off and kick them to the side, finally releasing some of the uncomfortable pressure that had been placed on his burgeoning erection. The Jersey man reached forward with his working hand and guided the SEAL into his lap so he could straddle his thighs on the couch, and the taller man shucked his t-shirt as well.

His cock hung, long and heavy between them, and Danny took a moment to let his fingers drift down the smooth shaft from base to tip, the ghost of a touch which made Steve hum happily and let his head drop backwards. The blonde gazed up at his friend, and he looked beyond heavenly; soft lips parted, muscular thighs spread, solid abs flexing as he dealt with the sensations Danny was providing, and tattooed biceps bulging where he supported himself against the couch either side of the Jersey man's head. He was a god.

Danny rested his cast-bound wrist against the outside of Steve's thigh for stability, and flicked his tongue over the head of the other man's cock in the way he'd dreamed about so many times before.

"Oh fuck... Danny..." the Navy man moaned and tightened his grip on the cushions. His voice cracked on his friend's name, desperation and need causing him to sound broken before the man had even begun, but he didn't care. Because this was Danny, and it was all he'd wanted for a very long time.

Danny moaned as he took Steve into his mouth, swirling his tongue over hot flesh and gliding him back slowly until he hit his soft palette. He tasted like nothing he could describe, all musk and tang and Steve.

He pulled off him again, lips laying open-mouthed kisses along his dick while the blonde took his time to investigate his flavour and texture like it was not only the first time, but also the last. Just in case.

Danny's wet heat surrounding him was unbelievable, and Steve could only focus on the feeling of his best friend's lips wrapped around his dick, his hand on his ass cheek pulling him forward, the warm air that tickled across his abs when the detective breathed out of his nose. He began to bob his head faster, licking and sucking, supplying just the barest hint of teeth, which raised goosebumps over the SEAL's skin and left him gasping.

He was so turned on by the man under him that he knew he wouldn't last long, and Danny was going down on him like a pro, taking cues from his reactions and repeating, increasing, intensifying based on how well his boss responded. The coil of heat in his belly wound tighter, and he felt like he was going to implode. One hand moved to the loosened tie still hanging around the cop's neck and wound the fabric between his fingers in an attempt to ground himself.

"Jesus Danny... Fuck fuck fuck, your mouth... Ohhh..."

Without warning Danny deep throated him, burying him to the hilt inside his tight channel and swallowing around him, and it was all over for Steve. His climax rolled through him and he curled in on himself as his stomach muscles contracted and he cried out wordlessly.

Danny anchored him through the fog of euphoria, his mouth working to milk every last drop from him before letting him withdraw and collapse into his lap.

Steve sighed heavily as he came down from the orgasm high and tucked his face into the side of the Jersey man's neck, hands slipping under his shirt and behind his back to press them together.

It felt wonderful to be held so intimately by the brunette, and Danny wrapped his own arms around him as they tried to calm their breathing, careful of his wrist.

It was a couple of minutes before Steve could speak, and he did so without moving from his position.

"Danny, I... I know we've had alcohol, but..." He trailed off, unsure of how to explain himself. He didn't want this to be a one off, didn't want this to end and have them go back to just co-workers or be awkward with one another. Now that he'd had it once, he wanted this again and again.

Danny slid his good hand onto Steve's face, making him pull back and locking earnest eyes with his boss.

"I know, Steve," he murmured quietly, "This doesn't end here."

It was simple and in no way covered the breadth of the emotions he was feeling, but it would have to do for now. He pulled Steve into another tender kiss, knowing this was something he was fast becoming addicted to. They closed their eyes and breathed one another in as their tongues glided against the other's, tasting whiskey and peppermint and each other's cum. It was a heady mix, and so unbelievably sensual.

They jumped when Steve's cell phone began to bleep on the coffee table and the brunette laughed.

"Your next dosage," he smiled down on his lover.

"I can tell you right now, Steven. I don't think I'm gonna need any more pain pills if you keep this up!" He was only half joking because he was damned if he didn't care about his wrist right now, but the other man was already climbing off him and fetching the meds from the kitchen.

Danny bit his lower lip as the SEAL swaggered bare ass naked across the room and back, no shame... not that he had any reason to be embarrassed, because every tanned and tattooed inch of him was perfection.

"You'll regret it in the morning if you don't take them." He held out the foil packet and a glass of water, and smiled when he realised Danny was too busy staring at his nude body to notice.

And god did the blonde look gorgeous too, with hair messy, shirt hanging off his wide shoulders, crumpled tie trailing over his stomach. He looked up and his eye crinkled at the corners as he gazed at Steve, causing his stomach to twist with excitement at the world of new possibilities open to them.

He took the pills and glass from the taller man. "I'm not going to regret _anything_ I've done tonight," he affirmed gently.

He downed his dose with the drink, and Steve reached out to him.

"Come to bed?" He gave the man an expression which communicated he was in no way referring to the one in the spare room, and Danny was up on his feet and shedding the last of his clothing as gracefully as he could with only one decent hand.

"Hell yes," he grinned.

Minutes later they were cuddled up close under Steve's sheets, with the brunette acting as the big spoon so Danny could face away and hold his broken wrist out away from their bodies.

The Navy man was just beginning to drift off with his forehead pressed to his lover's bare back when Danny spoke again.

"I'm just wondering something," he said, voice tinged with amusement.

"What's that, Danno?" Steve asked.

"If a snapped wrist means I get a blow job," he turned his head to look at his friend, eyes sparkling with mischief, "What's a guy gotta break to get full blown sex around here?"


End file.
